Babyhood chronicles!

I love babies. So much so that sometimes when I look at a very cute one, I have a longing to have one of my own. Half of H and half of me. It sounds utterly romantic to me. But I know the real process of making a baby is anything but that. 😛 So there. But this post is about S, my nephew, my first baby :-))

You are the showstopper today. You haven’t been mentioned in this space ever.  You’d ask why? Because you mean to me what I can’t even begin to put into words. But today I am missing you so much that I had to do this. To ease my own pain. To bring to the surface all the happy emotions and feelings and memories I have with you. Nostalgia is a very strange thing. All those sad memories make me laugh now, and all those moments that we spent having the time of our lives, make my eyes well up. So, while I will go nostalgic trying to recall all those stupid, funny, cute, maddening stories all over again, I will try not to cry *sniff*
You came into my life when I was in college. I was so happy that day I had my first scooty accident, although I had been driving it for almost 2 years then. I was so excited that I was shivering and I hit the ground with smile on my face because I was trying to picture you in my thoughts. Anyway, I got up, brushed myself and ran home because I wanted to see you. I still remember that first moment when I saw you. You were sleeping. I was scared to touch you lest it hurt. Even while sleeping, you got scared by the camera flash. And look at you today! All ready to pose and do so much natak all the time. :-))

 

You used to love playing in the night when everyone else was asleep. You remember those nights? I did stupid antics to make you laugh, and humor me you did. I remember both us laughing and rolling for no reason at all. In the morning, I used to be half asleep and tired but when I saw you sleeping peacefully, I gloated to everyone that I was the reason behind it. Little did I know that you were the reason because of which I could study even when I was tired to my bones. Your smile did that to me.

And then one day I had to leave. Go away to another city. We parted ways. And then you remember that time when I came to meet you after 8 months? You had almost forgotten me, almost too shy to acknowledge me. But within two hours, you were the brat I always knew – naughty smart kickass. I still remember my disbelief at hearing you speak those cute little broken sentences. Nothing has ever sounded better to me. I still remember those 3 days that I spent with you. You would eat with me, sleep with me, play with me, refusing to leave my side even for a second. And didn’t I feel proud about that?
And then came the day when I had to go back. You were glued to me at the railway station. I had a lump in my throat too. It wasn’t easy for me to pry myself away from you. But was there any other way? When the train left the station, I saw you crying and tried to push back my own tears. But do you know that I cried the whole waking part of my 24–hour journey? I had swollen eyes when I reached my city. It just broke my heart to be away from you. And that day I understood what a real heart break actually feels like! 🙁
Then began our meetings which were far and few in between . We always looked forward to meeting each other. And  I loved it when you gave me special attention, awaiting my home coming and then climbing on my lap immediately and asking for your gifts, which were always the best and the most in number. You remember those dinosaur balls? 😛
6+ years into the relationship and you are naughtier than ever. But I know how much you love me. You are too young to understand that feeling, but I can see it in your eyes when you understand that I have to leave and I can’t be with you all day, every day. Your conversations make me smile and laugh. Your perspective of the world is so cute, it makes my heart all gooey. You know how much I love you and you never fail to take advantage of that, don’t you? But then, I love your expression when you think you have made a mamu out of me.
Sometimes I think about how my baby will be. Although there’s another couple of years for that. I don’t know how he/she will be like. But I have always loved you like my first born. I don’t know if I have it in me to love another one so dearly and passionately. But I do wish that you can read this when you grow up and know that I loved you with all my heart and all my love. I always wish you get the best life has to offer. And even though I get upset that you don’t call me maasi, I am secretly super happy and kicked in my heart because you have given me a special name that is so much more cute and cool. Thank you baby for being what you are and making me what I am!

Meet the Real Parents!

“God couldn’t be everywhere, so he created Mothers!”
“My Daddy strongest!”
No, I haven’t suddenly turned all parent-patriotic, armed with a facebook status, shouting from the rooftop “Yes Mama Papa….I love you”. No thank you very much. I’d like to do it in my own quiet way, inside my home and not on my FB wall. Because that’s the last ‘Wall’ my parents are going to check for my Love graffiti messages. 😉

Anyway, the reason for this post was a phone call. Don’t ask me who. You are going to guess it by the end of the post.
Pretty much like handing over legacy down to your son(s) and house keys to daughter-in-law(s), there is another phenomenon of handing down torture to the future generations. And yeah, I am not only talking about ragging in colleges! I have seen many of my own juniors who absolutely hated the R-word but, by the end of the semester, were so amused and almost so enthusiastic about it, that they turned out to be those dreaded seniors who didn’t spare a single fuccha in college!

Anyway, the point I am driving at is that our parents are just a variant of the “College Senior” species. You know, the ones, who were coaxed into marriage by their own kin, who allured these poor souls into believing that it was the best thing happening to them and that they would live “happily ever after”. And like ragging, after all these years of struggle and sustenance and tolerating kids like us, these guys pretty much begin to believe that this is, indeed, a kind of happiness. I think it’s not their fault too. Anyone would be disillusioned in 20 years into believing that kind of stuff. 😛

But you can meet these Real parents only, once you are Out of college. So as soon as YOU turn a “marriageable age” according to the “College Senior” species, they will try to allure you too, with day dreams and false promises of a happily ever after life. But you see, kids these days are too smart for that! Now, did we not give them a real hard time, while tearfully agreeing to part with our beloved bachelorhood/spinsterhood status? I can feel some of you giving a crooked smile because you are still revelling in your Oh-So-Single status.

And no, the buck doesn’t stop just there. According to the “College Senior”, having a baby/planning a baby/getting pregnant within a year of marriage is the best thing that you can do to yourself or with your life. And no, you shouldn’t dare debate the topic with them. Otherwise, you will be made to listen to umpteen stories of ladies, who apparently had to go the Ash way (you know, fertility treatments and sky rocketing medical bills and test tube babies!) and That’s NOT GOOD! They did it and now you must too. Talk about handing down legacy!

You can act horrified, and say yes Mama and no Mama and try to divert the topic but the “College Senior” never takes No for an answer. Up to you to decide to be the Meek Junior and say, “Yes Sir” or be the Cheeky One and say, “Yes Sir, you heard it right! I WON’T do it!”

PS: Have you met your Real Parents yet?